


The Space That Divides Us (Can't Keep Us Apart)

by periclism



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Force Bond (Star Wars), Jedi!Clarke, Lexa is not evil, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rebellion, Sexual Tension, Sith!Lexa, Slow Burn, Star Wars AU, The Force, War, just confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periclism/pseuds/periclism
Summary: The Force works in mysterious ways.Lexa and Clarke can't help but agree when the Force decides to bond them together while fighting on opposite sides of a rebellion. Will their bond change the course of the war?Star War AU in which Lexa is a Sith lord, and Heda of the Galactic Alliance that has overtaken most of the Galaxy.Clarke is a Jedi and part of the rebellion fighting against the military tyranny.OR The Clexa Star Wars fusion you didn’t even know you needed.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea's been stewing in my head for a while now, and I finally decided to just write it. This is a short chapter to see if people are interested, and would like me to write more. I don't have a beta so this probably still has a few mistakes. 
> 
> Basic knowledge of Star Wars is helpful but definitely not required:)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our rebels go on a mission. It doesn't go as planned.

It was one of those sketchy places. Just outside of a big city, a neighborhood everyone would rather avoid. It was dark, but the darkness helped with pretending you couldn’t see the people begging in the streets, huddled together to preserve warmth. It was harder to drown out children’s’ cries and their mother’s hollow reassurances in the otherwise silent night.

The planets’ three moons reflected the few puddles that littered the road. If it could be even called that. It was more of a muddy emptiness between houses where nothing had been built. Clarke inhaled deeply, to calm herself of the nerves settling in her stomach, breath catching when the sickening stench nearly made her gag. Breathing through her mouth didn’t help the matter either, she could now taste as well as smell the nauseating mix of excrements, the metallic hint of blood, and other things Clarke couldn’t immediately name.

The streets were calm, eerily so, but ever since the Galactic Alliance took over most of the Galaxy almost a year ago, a lot of places were this way. A small patrol of stormtroopers marched through the street, and Clarke tried her best not to act suspicious, even slightly using the Force to hide her and her friends’ presence. Luckily, they marched right past them, and they soon made their way to the bar they had agreed to meeting in, the steps of their boots squelching in the mud the whole way.

Raven and Bellamy walked in front of their small group, and they pushed open the wooden door of the bar. Raucous laughter and music instantly drifted outside, along with a pair of stumbling patrons, who almost bumped into Bellamy before catching themselves. He glared at them and they sobered up enough in the face of his feigned anger that they managed to scramble away, leaving the doorway free for the rebels to enter.

Clarke found that the bar was entirely belonged in this neighborhood. Just as sketchy, just as filthy, and had definitely seen better days. It reeked of alcohol, and filled to the brim with patrons just as drunk of the two they encountered on their way inside. This made Clarke’s nerves settle somewhat, since these people were probably too far gone to notice any strangers entering and conducting weird business. probably the reason their contact had chosen this particular planet, neighborhood and bar for their meeting even though this part of the Galaxy was in control of the Supremacy.

The gang inconspicuously spread out, not wanting attract any unnecessary attention. Raven and Bellamy moved to a free table where they sat down. Octavia and Clarke made their way to the bar. A droid appeared in front of them asking them for their order. They both ordered a drink, though they both had no intention of actually drinking it. Instead, they scanned their surroundings, looking for anything suspicious, anything out of place. At the cards table Finn and Wells had moved to, an alien peeked at his opponent’s cards with one of his six eyes, and then quickly glanced away when he was about to get caught. A gigantic hairy Wookie stood at the bar a few stools down. Numerous droids weaved between the patrons, taking orders and delivering them to the respective table.

When she returned her focused gaze to Raven and Bellamy, the ones who were conducting the meeting, she saw someone sitting on the bench in front of them. The figure wore dark robes, concealing their face from Clarke. _Not suspicious at all,_ Clarke thought sarcastically.

“What’s our contact’s name again?” Clarke asked Octavia, turning to the woman next to her so she wouldn’t have to raise her voice.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think it was something like Tyler or River or...oh Ryder. It was Ryder.” She puffed out her chest at remembering his name, but never taking her eyes off the rest of the room.

“And we’re sure we can trust him?” Clarke was edgy, and she tried her best not to show it. The air felt charged, and Clarke couldn’t decide if it was a manifestation of her nerves or if it was something else.

“Never _trust_ , but Monty checked him out, and he seems legit. Apparently works for the Alliance as an engineer. He reached out to us with information about some project they are working on,” Octavia gazed at her, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

“Project?” Clarke inquired, ignoring Octavia’s look. She distracted herself by looking around the room, her hand moving to her belt, wanting to feel the weight of her saber to ground her, but then remembered she left it at the base. She had chosen not to bring it since it would only draw more attention to them, attention they didn’t want nor need. Ever since the Alliance took over, the Jedi were banned, and being found wielding a saber was a surefire way to get arrested, and eventually killed, after being tortured if you were truly unlucky.

But now, Clarke felt lost without her saber. Instead, she had brought a handgun, but it did not grant her the same feeling of safety her lightsaber did. The air was abuzz with an energy she didn’t recognize. And it scared her. Suddenly, the Force shifted subtly, warningly, as if it was preparing for something bigger, like a small shudder announces an earthquake, or the ocean recedes before a tsunami. 

Clarke’s hands shot out for Octavia’s, grabbing it tightly but not caring if she hurt her friend. “Octavia, we have to go. Something’s not ri-” She was cut off when the door suddenly burst open, stormtroopers barging in a constant stream. They immediately started shooting with their guns, the patrons inside answering with screams of pain and fear. Octavia and Clarke found cover behind a few nearby chairs and table. Left and right creatures hid, ran around trying to find an escape, or fell down as they were hit. Clarke and Octavia grabbed their pistols and started firing back, careful to avoid being hit by the red rays of plasma. In her peripheral vision, she saw Raven and Bellamy with their contact, Ryder, but they appeared to be fighting, but they seemed to have the upper hand fighting only one guy.

Clarke noticed Finn and Wells were also firing their pistols from behind an upturned table, close to where the troopers were. Clarke caught Octavia’s attention and wordlessly communicated that they had to help their friends. Octavia nodded, and they fired their guns as they moved.

They joined Finn and Wells behind the table, shooting and ducking. Clarke hit one trooper in the shoulder, and another in his stomach who fell down immediately with an agonized scream. By now it was chaos in the bar, bodies lying on the floor. Whether dead or not, Clarke couldn’t tell.

Just when Clarke thought they were winning, the stormtroopers having fallen down one by one, half a dozen more streamed inside. But that wasn’t what had Clarke reeling.

It was the figure that followed them. The Force hung around her like a dark invisible cloud.

She was clad in black, an immaculately pressed long coat over black trousers, a belt with multiple buckles clasped around the waist. One shoulder was protected by a shiny metal pauldron, held in place by a clasp crossing across her chest. Attached to it was a red colored fabric, the color matching that of the twin lightsabers blazing in her hands. The woman wore a murderous but oddly bored expression, still clearly visible around the dark face paint surrounding her eyes and partially covering her high cheekbones. Between her eyebrows glinted a charm in the shape of a cog.

_Oh no._

Clarke would recognize that symbol everywhere. The Galactic Alliance. _Heda._

Dark eyes caught hers immediately, as if magnetic forces involuntarily brought them together, and they narrowed before rushing in her direction. Clarke stood glued for a moment until the woman’s lightsaber cutting cleanly through a table shook her from it.

Of all the ways this mission could have gone wrong, they had never imagined the most prominent person of the military regime holding the Galaxy in its iron grip, interfere on their mission.

Taken out of her stupor, Clarke instinctively reached for the lightsaber at her belt, cursing herself again when she remembered she hadn’t taken it with her. Fighting a Sith wasn’t what she had prepared for this day, and the missing saber was a testament to that.

_Heda_ was already moving towards her, and while she could maybe defend herself against the woman using the Force, her friends couldn’t.

“Run. I’ll hold them off, okay? Use the back exit,” Clarke said determinedly, looking Finn, Wells and Octavia in the eyes one by one. They opened their mouths to object, but she didn’t give them the chance to speak, “I have the Force, remember? You guys don’t. I’ve been training for this, I can fight her,”

“How?” Octavia, ever stubborn, asked.

As a way of answering, Clarke grabbed the broken leg of a chair and held it with her right hand while her left still held her gun. “See? I’ll be fine. You have to leave and get to the spaceship. Get to safety.” 

Still not entirely convinced, but listening to her nonetheless, they crawled away. Clarke shuffled from behind the table in another direction she had told her friends to go. As she had hoped, the woman with the lightsabers followed her, barely paying attention to the other rebels leaving.

Dark eyes burned into hers, Clarke could see the light of her sabers reflecting in their deep depths, giving them an intense red glow.

She had to think quick. She pointed her gun at the woman, and pulled the trigger concluding she had no other choice but to fire. But instead of the plasma ray hitting its target, the ray stilled mid-air. _Heda_ stepped aside, and the ray was released, hitting the wall behind her.

The woman smiled smugly, and Clarke felt the urge to wipe to stupid smirk of her face. But Clarke knew that without an effective weapon she had no way of beating this woman.

She took a deep breath, calling upon her years of training as a Jedi, to calm herself. She threw up her mental shields as far as they would go, to block the other woman from prying in her head. The rage coming from the woman was dizzying in the Force, it was hard to think clearly.

Clarke decided her best move was to try to get away. While the Force was useful in guiding her movements and heightening her awareness, it would not help her in a fight with someone equally if not more skilled with the disadvantage of being without a lightsaber.

She didn’t get much more time because _Heda_ was moving on her, a snarl on her face most would scare away from. Clarke easily sidestepped the sabers, using the move to inconspicuously move to the door that was still wide open from when the troopers barged in. She turned around immediately as did the brunette, and they circled around each other, sizing each other up. Clarke felt naked without something to hold to defend herself. before she apparently became impatient and shifted on her feet, rolling her sabers in her hands, crisscrossing them in front of her chest, and moved with such speed and agility Clarke had never seen before. Clarke found herself struggling to keep up with the repeated attacks.

Clarke now stood with her back to the door. She had to find a way to distract the other woman long enough to be able to get away. She considered shooting her gun somewhere random, maybe distracting the woman enough for Clarke to make a run for it but it was too risky.

Just as Clarke was about to charge forward, a blur caught her eye. Octavia came from the middle of nowhere, breaking a wooden chair on the brunette’s head. Clarke’s eyes widened as she watched in surprise as the woman fell down at the force of the impact. Octavia kicked her lightsabers out of reach.

“Come on, lets go!” Octavia yelled, running while dragging Clarke with her out of the door into the darkness of the night. “I couldn’t let you die, Clarke. I don’t care what you tell me.”

Clarke watched bewildered as the other girl smirked at her knowingly. The Force shuddered again, with even more rage and darkness now, sucking all light out of it. Clarke stumbled with the intensity of it.

“Fuck. Run faster, she’s getting closer,” Clarke urged her. But it was too late.

Coming from an alley on the right, a dozen stormtroopers blocked their path, their armor shining a ghostly white in the moonlight.

They had no choice but to stop their getaway. The last thing Clarke saw was Octavia being hit in the head before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke gets interrogated by the Commander. Both are in for a few surprises.
> 
> Octavia meets someone who wants to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thank you so much for reading. Here is the second chapter, I hope you enjoy!

The first thing Clarke noticed when she slowly began to regain consciousness was her head. It was pounding, pain flashing through her skull, especially at the back where she was hit. She didn’t even know with what she was hit. She just knew that it had knocked her out with only one strike. And that it hurt. Like hell. She tried to open her eyes, but she immediately closed them again when the blinding light made the pounding worse as she groaned in pain.

She heard quiet voices speaking, indiscernible, but then they stopped. She recognized the sound of booted feet, the metal floor sounding hollow with each step. A door opened, accompanied with the familiar hiss.

“She’s waking up.” A mechanic voice spoke, closer than she had expected. “Tell _Heda_ her prisoner is awake.” Their speech was muffled, as if the person had turned away, directing their order to someone else, Clarke guessed.

A different pair of feet walked away, their steps lightly echoing after them. Clarke blinked again, and this time her eyes her slightly adjusted to the light in the room, which wasn’t even that bright, but considering she had spent god-knows-how-long unconsciousness, it wasn’t that strange that her brain had struggled to process the sudden influx of light.

She glanced around the room, noticing she was a closed off room. Only one door functioning as entrance and exit. She sat in a chair, which was incredibly uncomfortable. The walls were of thick metal, Clarke could tell, and here a there a light was fixed to the ceiling. Overall, the room was bare, the only furnishings being the chair she sat in and a stool in the corner of the room.

The voice she had heard before belonged to a stormtrooper wearing the usual white armor. Roughly grabbing her arms, they cuffed her wrists to the chair. Next were her legs, also cuffing them individually with strong durasteel bonds she had no chance of getting out of without any help, not even with the help of the Force.

Her heart sunk when she realized that, while unconsciousness, she hadn’t been able to mask her sensitivity to the Force, not by her own will anyway. She hoped it hadn’t been too clear, in which case her chances of getting out of here alive would slim down to almost zero, if it hadn’t been that before. Being a rebel would likely grant her a death sentence, being a _Force sensitive_ rebel would undoubtedly grant her a one-way ticket to face the firing squad. Being a _Jedi_ , one of the last ones left if reports could be trusted... Clarke shuddered, she forced herself not to think about her fate, her probably very painful fate.

Luckily, it was easy to get a grip on the Force, not being restrained with Force-neutralizing bonds, which made her hopeful that no one had found out about her true nature. Now, it was important she managed to keep it that way.

The stormtrooper had already taken up place outside, but the door was kept open.

Clarke waited. It wasn’t as if she could do anything other than waiting. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, but she guessed she was waiting for the Commander. Thought of the woman made her blood boil. How she had interfered on their mission, and how she had captured Octavia and her.

But that was only child’s play for the Commander. She had conquered millions and killed thousands, if not more. The Sith was known all throughout the Galaxy, for her ruthlessness, for her infamous coldness, and her cunning.

As if the thought of her had summoned the woman, the stormtrooper in the hallway slightly bowed down while murmuring “ _Heda_ ,”

The woman didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge the revered greeting of her soldier, instead she walked through the door, just as imposing as when she entered that bar. She wore black clothes, a color she appeared to like, Clarke surmised, but they were different from last time. She wore a pair of black trousers, but instead of the long coat she wore last time, her torso was covered with a long-sleeved vest. Her pauldron was in place and just as shiny as last time, as was the flowing red cape. Her eyes were encased in the same mask, black and with tear-like streaks on her cheeks.

Her dark eyes landed on Clarke, and Clarke felt the energy in the room buzz, the Force practically vibrating with it. _Heda’s_ eyes were hard to read, as was her face. It was completely stoic; no emotion could be detected as the woman scanned the room silently.

It was a stark contrast from the woman she had encountered that day in the bar. That woman had been smirking. Though she was still as intense, her aura giving off power, it was more subdued, just lingering beneath the surface.

She ordered the stormtroopers outside to close the door, the resulting swoosh was ear-deafening in the otherwise silent room. The Commander wordlessly sat down on the stool in the corner of the room, facing Clarke.

“Let’s start off easy,” The woman said casually after a beat, tugging off her black leather gloves from her hands, smoothing them down on her lap. “What is your name?”

Clarke did not look at her, instead she kept her hard stare on the wall in front of her, doing her best to appear unaffected by the dark aura surrounding the woman. “I’m not telling you,”

“I thought this might happen.” She sighed, as if this was just a mild inconvenience to her, “I show you such gracious hospitality, letting you stay here on my ship, but what do I get in return? Nothing.”

“You hit me and my friend in the head before you captured us. I wouldn’t call that _gracious hospitality_.”

“A technicality. The point is that you are here, and I want to know more about you, as a good host should.” _Heda_ stood up from her seat, stalking like a predator stalking her prey, “So, tell me your name.”

The airy edge of her voice was gone now, replaced with impatience and something darker and more dangerous. Clarke gulped at the sound of it. She was tense before, not exactly knowing what she could expect, but now she felt the cold sweat on her brow. Keeping her mouth shut probably wasn’t the best course of action in face of the brunette’s imminent anger, so Clarke decided to answer, hoping that answering this simple question would placate her somewhat.

“Clarke,”

The brunette lightly raised the corners of her mouth, turning them into the ghost a smirk, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, Clarke?”

Clarke had to keep herself from rolling her eyes, feeling that she was being taunted with. Instead, she returned them to the wall, keeping them from the brunette who was slowly stepping closer.

“Tell me about the others,”

“Who?”

“The other rebels. Where are they?” the brunette pressed.

“I don’t know who you are talking about.” _That’s right, Clarke, just play dumb. Act like you don’t know why you are here._

“Yes, you do.” Her voice was cold again, a dangerous undertone deepening it. She stepped closer, raising her hand.

Suddenly, Clarke felt her windpipe closing, cutting off the flow of oxygen to her lungs. She clawed at her throat, desperately trying to release the pressure choking her, but it was to no avail, the Force choke keeping her in its hold strongly.

“Will this help you remember, Clarke?” The brunette asked over Clarke’s gasps, her dark eyes intent on the blonde’s slowly reddening face.

Clarke couldn’t speak, clearly, and she was panicking. She felt the Force turbulently inside her, begging to come out. She struggled to keep it at bay, not wanting to give herself away so easily, but she did inconspicuously nudge against the hold the Sith had over her with the Force, trying to alleviate some of the pain and making breathing a bit easier, though she was still gasping for air.

When Clarke was slowly starting to go purple, the Commander brought her hand down, the invisible power releasing her throat. “Will you talk now?”

Instead of talking, Clarke gulped down air as she tried to calm her frantic heart.

“What do you want?” Clarke asked when she had finally settled down enough.

“So many things. And right now, the rebels are standing in the way of getting what I want.” The brunette told her as she clenched her fists, hanging on to the last shreds of her patience, “So, tell me, where are they? Where is your base? Who is leading you?”

Clarke bit her lip, keeping her mouth tightly shut. She would never betray her friends by revealing to the enemy their location or who they were. One of the reasons that the rebellion had managed to stay alive and hidden until now was because its members were willing, quite literally, to die to keep their secrets.

Clarke stayed silent, not looking at the brunette. Defiantly, she stared at the same spot at the wall she had been staring at the last minutes while this interrogation was going on. It was easier to ignore the Commander and her obvious presence in the Force when she wasn’t looking at her even though she felt the brunette’s eyes burning a hole in her face.

However, when a long moment had passed without a word being said, Clarke turned her eyes in the brunette’s direction again, noticing she was suddenly a lot closer.

“If you won’t answer me, I’ll have to go looking for answers myself.” The brunette said before raising her hand again. Clarke braced herself for feeling her air being cut off by inhaling deeply, but the clenching around her windpipe never came. Instead, she felt a deep pain in her mind, the presence ruffling through memories, searching for emotions.

“I see you. There’s a lot of space around you. Not only literally but also figuratively, even keeping those closest to you at a distance. You are afraid something might happen to them, you are afraid of what might happen to _you_ if that happens,” She said, searching Clarke’s face for any kind of reaction.

Clarke felt naked, the inner workings of her mind so blatantly laid bare by this woman. She felt tears gather in her eyes, blurring her vision. But that didn’t stop her though, like a reflex, Clarke threw up the walls of her mind, locking the woman out of her most precious secrets. The Commander’s eyes widened when she felt the blonde resisting her, the first time Clarke had seen the woman act surprised, and Clarke had to suppress a smirk. She hadn’t known Clarke could use the Force after all. She knew revealing herself to this woman was not smart, but it was better than the alternative of letting her enemy search through her brain any further.

The brunette narrowed her eyes, pushing even harder to enter Clarke’s mind again. Clarke pushed back, harder, with no reservations anymore about letting this woman know her true identity. She didn’t care if she was killed for it, or mysteriously disappeared as the Alliance often called it. What mattered to Clarke was keeping her friends and fellow rebels safe, and if this was the way to protect them, then she would do it.

The brunette pushed even harder, her outstretched hand now beginning to shake with the amount of energy coursing through it. But Clarke prevailed, she clenched her fists tightly, still inside the cuffs, harnessing all the energy and power she had to keep the other woman out of her head.

Clarke felt the brunette’s hold waver, and she used it, pushing back against her. The Commander stumbled back slightly, overwhelmed by the energy coursing through the both of them, not expecting it. Clarke felt the gates of _Heda’s_ mind open only briefly, but long enough to see glimpses and flashes of memories laden with sunshine and laughter. However, before she could take a good look, the brunette broke off the energy flowing between them, effectively shutting the gates and stopping them both from seeing inside each other’s head.

They were both breathing deeply, recovering from their exertions and also partly because of the discoveries they just made. Clarke raised her eyes to the Commander’s dark ones, and the blonde hadn’t seen the look inside her eyes before, but it was one that Clarke couldn’t fully figure out as she was still gathering her thoughts from the earlier intrusion.

_Heda_ was the first to sort herself out, straightening herself and her black clothes though they needed no smoothing down. Without a word, she went to the small chair in the corner of the room searching for the black gloves she had left there. She tugged them on and then walked to the door, knocking on it twice. The door opened, but before she walked out, she turned to Clarke, locking eyes with her once more.

“This isn’t the last you have seen of me, Clarke Griffin,” The brunette said before stalking out of the room, leaving Clarke with shivers running down her spine.

∞∞∞

She had been waiting. For a long time. She knew it had to be days, since one of the stormtrooper standing guard had already entered more than once with food and water. She didn’t know how many hours were between meals, it could be days but it could also be hours, Octavia didn’t know.

However, what she did know, was that the stormtrooper giving her food was the same one, every time. She knew because she noticed a dent in the helmet the first time he came, and then all the times after that she had been able to spot the same blemish of the white surface.

_Heda_ had also paid her a visit, but luckily only one. The woman had nothing short of relentless, merciless in her way of finding answers to her questions. Octavia had answered some of them, but only after the woman had almost drained the life out of her by squeezing her throat with the Force. And even then, the questions she had answered she had responded to in such a way that the Commander would not be any wiser. For most of them she had just feigned ignorance.

The next time the stormtrooper came, he had brought more water than normal and loosened her bindings around her wrists so they did not cut off her bloodflow as much. Octavia found it all a bit strange, but didn’t comment on it since that would only work against her.

But after the third time of the stormtrooper entering, every time staying a bit longer the time before, but never saying anything, Octavia got curious and couldn’t help but ask.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you,”

“Who are you?”

“LN-5117, but I used to be called Lincoln.”

“Why are you helping me, Lincoln? Bringing me more water and making me more comfortable by loosening the chains?” Octavia inquired, narrowing her eyes.

The stormtrooper sighed, a strange sound through the voice modulator. He quickly checked the door, noticing it was still closed, and then brought up his hands to unclasp his helmet.

Octavia couldn’t be more surprised when the face of a handsome man was revealed. Her had a light stubble but a bald head, shining slightly in the dim light of the room.

“I want to help you, Octavia.” He said, his voice a soft, deep rumble. He looked at her in earnest, “I figured if I help you, you can help me too in return.”

“Help you, how?”

“By escaping,”

“That’s kinda difficult while chained inside of a room with two guards standing outside at all times.”

“That’s why you need my help, seeing as I’m one of those guards standing outside,” Lincoln’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and Octavia was intrigued.

“So, what are you saying? That you’ll help me escape?” Octavia asked for clarification. She couldn’t believe that this stormtrooper was willing to betray the Alliance he was sworn to.

“Yes,” Lincoln nodded.

“What about the part where I have to help you?”

“I only ask to come with you when you escape. Nothing else, just a way to escape this place and these people. I’ll help you escape, and in return you’ll help me escape.”

“We’ll help each other escape,” she concluded thoughtfully, to which the man nodded again.

“I’m in,” the brunette said conspiratorially. Lincoln released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “But I have one condition though,”

Lincoln raised his brow questioningly, Octavia finding out quickly that Lincoln appeared to be a man of few words. She wondered if he had learned that while training as a stormtrooper or if he had always been that way. Nevertheless, Octavia surprised herself by how much comfort it gave her, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“We break Clarke out too,”

∞∞∞

They decided to wait until nightfall. Well, not nightfall since that didn’t exist in space, but they waited until the halls of the spaceship were more deserted than usual after most had gone to sleep.

Their plan was simple, Lincoln would take out the other guard, knock him out quickly so he wouldn’t be a problem. Then he would open the door to Octavia’s cell, where Octavia would change into the stormtrooper armor and helmet. That way, anybody they passed on the way to Clarke’s cell would think they were just two regular stormtroopers walking the halls while on patrol.

Octavia still sat in her cell, her wrists and feet bound with the cuffs Lincoln had loosened over the days, impatiently anticipating the door to open and for Lincoln to enter.

It didn’t take long though. A minute later the door swooshed open and Lincoln shuffled in, dragging the body of his fellow guardsman behind him. When he was done, he straightened and quickly closed the door to make sure no one could see them while in the hall.

He rushed to her, releasing her of his bonds as he spoke, “Come, quickly. We don’t have much time. The faster we are out of here the better.”

“Okay,” Octavia agreed, both of them moving over to the body, stripping it of the armor and helmet. Beneath it was a woman, around Lincoln age Octavia guessed, and she found it strange to see such normal people in such a dehumanizing get-up. The protective gear gave the troopers such a cold exterior that it was hard to imagine the people that were underneath.

Octavia put on the armor over her own clothes, which she was still wearing. She buckled the belt, attaching the gun to it, and Lincoln finished clasping the chest plate around her back.

He put his hands on her shoulders, urging her to look up at him. “We have to be careful. I know where Clarke is being kept, so we won’t have to search for her. We have to act natural, like we actually belong here. Patrolling the halls. Do you understand?”

She nodded, not wanting to speak while she sensed that Lincoln wasn’t done talking yet.

“In front of Clarke’s cell, there will most likely also be two guards at the door. We both take them out, preferably without using the guns since that’s noisy and might draw attention.”

“Okay, I understand. Let’s move,” She put the helmet on her head. Inside it was dark and hard to see, and she heard her own breathing loudly in her own ears.

Lincoln opened the door, and they both stepped out. The door slid closed behind them and then they were off, marching side by side. They made a few turns, Octavia consequently losing track of their way in the labyrinth that were the abundant corridors of the spaceship.

They encountered no problems, only the occasional passerby, some of them nodded their head, others ignored them completely, and Octavia was relieved they were able to move without a hitch.

When they neared Clarke’s cell, they slowed down, approaching the troopers standing guard. They had agreed to let Lincoln do most of the talking since, as a guard himself, he knew how the guards interacted with each other and how to act around them.

“We are here to relieve you guys,” Lincoln stated, his voice void of anything except neutrality.

“I think you might have the wrong cell; we aren’t supposed to be off for another hour.” The left stormtrooper said facing them both.

“We were told to go to this cell.” Lincoln replied calmly.

“And who told you that?” The right one spoke up, stepping closer to them. Octavia eyed him lightly placing his hand on his gun.

Lincoln must have noticed too because he immediately tried to deescalate a potentially dangerous situation. “Look, our boss ordered us to do this, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t question my orders.”

It appeared to be the right thing to say as the trooper on the right released his gun, and everyone’s bunched shoulders collectively relaxed. “Guess you got a point there.” One of them said. They both nodded, and moved aside for Octavia and Lincoln to take their place. “Good luck, you two. She is a feisty one, that one.” He said, motioning to the door, and to Clarke inside, “Got _Heda_ walking out of there with a frown that even puts her glare to shame.”

With that they walked away. Octavia and Lincoln watched them leave, and waited until the corridor was completely empty before springing into action. Lincoln punched in the code for the door, and as soon as it slid open, Octavia ran inside, desperate to free her friend.

Clarke was chained, just like she had been. Octavia scanned her for injuries but didn’t find any. She didn’t look like she had been handled roughly, though her face was a bit paler than usual and it was covered in sweat. Her head lifted as soon as she heard the door open and she had a mildly alarmed look on her face. Octavia was confused for a second but then remembered she still had the stormtrooper helmet on so Clarke couldn’t see who she was. Clarke’s eyes immediately widened,

“Octavia? What? How-”

“Clarke, we don’t have much time,” she cut Clarke off. She quickly opened the cuffs with the keys Lincoln had given her. Clarke tensed up when she saw another figure looming in the door opening. However, Octavia calmed her worries, “Don’t worry, he’s the one that helped me escape,”

When Clarke returned her gaze to Octavia, her brow furrowed questioningly, Octavia sighed, “I’ll explain to you later. Come on, we gotta go.” She insisted as she helped Clarke up from her sitting position.

“Clarke, I’m Lincoln,” Lincoln stepped up next to them and Clarke nodded in acknowledgement and greeting. “To get out of here, we have to go to the hangar bay where they keep the smaller starships. We get one and we’re out of here. Clarke,” he said, catching her attention, “Octavia and I will act as your guards transferring you to another cell. Hopefully, no one will get suspicious.”

“What if they do?”

“In that case I have an extra gun for you to use,” Lincoln detached one of the guns on his belt and handed it to Clarke, who took it and shoved it in the waistband of her pants before covering it with her shirt.

“Okay, you guys ready?” Lincoln asked as he looked Octavia and Clarke in the eye.

“Yes,” said Octavia, pulling on her helmet again.

“Me too,”

They wordlessly moved out of the room, Clarke walking slightly in front of Octavia and Lincoln, who were walking right beside each other. Their pace was persistent, but not enough to be overly suspicious. Lincoln steered them in the right directions through the winding halls. Their boots echoed eerily through the half-deserted spaceship, the sound bouncing off the metal walls.

As they neared the hangar bay, more and more servicemen, droids and other personnel passed them, some looking at them strangely. Their pace didn’t falter however, they were determined to get to the hangar bay as fast as possible.

That plan seemed to go up in smoke when they heard a voice behind them,

“Hey!”

All three of them stiffened. Clarke settled her hand on the gun tucked inside her waistband. As they turned around a bulky figure approached, the same person who had stopped them.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Transferring a prisoner, sir” Lincoln replied automatically, naturally, but his shoulders were tense and his hands inching to his gun as well.

“Who told you to transfer a prisoner? No prisoners are allowed on this level.” The man said with a gruff voice and a glare directed at Lincoln and Octavia.

“I-” Lincoln stammered, unable to come up with a plausible lie. The man stepped even closer and as they saw recognition dawn on him as he looked at Clarke, Lincoln he leaned forward, closer to Clarke and Octavia, taking his gun in hand. Without missing a beat, he whispered, “Run,” as he hit their aggressor with a red plasma-ray.

They shot into a sprint immediately, all of them prepared to make a run for it any time. They didn’t care that they would draw even more attention by running, it would be the fastest way to get to the hangar bay, and to safety. If they managed to get to a ship.

They ran, Lincoln in front to guide way since he was familiar with the halls. Rounding a corner, three stormtroopers stood in the hallway, blocking their path. Without hesitation, Octavia and Clarke started firing their guns, Lincoln following a bit later, somewhat reluctant but without a choice.

The stormtroopers didn’t even get the chance to reach for their own guns, that was how fast they got shot down. They passed the bodies now laying on the ground and continued on their way.

They heard dull thuds behind them, running. They didn’t have to ask themselves what the sound might be, knowing that the sound was that of boots and that the boots were following them. Lincoln sped up in front of the group and Clarke and Octavia followed, trying their best to make their own footsteps less loud.

“We’re here,” Lincoln suddenly said, slowing down slightly when they entered the hangar bay. It was a he space, big enough to house a number of starfighters and other smaller ships used by the crew and pilots.

Just as they were about rush to one of the ships, the thudding behind them stopped and then rays of plasma were flying all around them.

Octavia and Lincoln hid behind a load of cargo that were scattered all around the floor of the bay, firing their pistols back at the stormtroopers as they tried to avoid being hit by one. Clarke ducked behind a metal wagon, its purpose lost on Clarke but she didn’t care either way, too caught up on scanning the group of white geared troopers attacking them as she fired her own gun at them.

There were ten, which wasn’t all that much, Clarke thought, seeing as she and Octavia were important captives, but she didn’t stop and evaluate why there were so little. Her only guess was that these stormtroopers had been nearby and had been alarmed immediately, and that more of them would likely on their way right now.

They had to move fast, get to a fighter and get the hell out of here.

“We have to get to one of the fighters,” Octavia, as if she had read Clarke’s mind, yelled over the whooshing of the plasma rays, not once taking her eyes of her opponents or stopping her own firing. She hit one square in the chest resulting in them falling down in a heap on the floor. “More of them are probably coming,”

“I think they’re already here,” Clarke said as plasma rays started coming from the other side. She turned around, and as she had expected, on the other side of the hangar stood a group of troopers.

“Clarke, get over to us. There’s a TIE-fighter here that we can take,” Lincoln suggested. He alternated the direction he was shooting in, first behind him and then in front before repeating. They were now being attacked from two sides and severely outnumbered. They had to move.

“Cover for me,” Clarke said, sprinting over to Lincoln and Octavia. She used the Force to protect her while she was in the direct line of fire of both squads of troopers, concentrating on slowing the rays down as they were shot at her.

Luckily, the gap between both of their hiding spots wasn’t that wide, and with the help of the Force and her friends – though Clarke wasn’t sure if Lincoln could be called a friend – firing at stormtroopers to distract them , Clarke got to the other side without much trouble.

“You okay?” Octavia asked, checking if she had been hit or injured.

“Yes, I’m fine, let’s go. Hurry,”

Clarke noticed the energy, pulling on a few strings of the Force. She knew _Heda_ must know about their attempt at escaping, and she was angry to say the least. Clarke could feel it so clearly, like she was feeling it herself. It made her run faster. She didn’t want a repeat performance from the interrogation, and getting recaptured would definitely result in that, and maybe this time the Commander wouldn’t cut it short.

They reached the TIE-fighter that was closest to them, the three of them barged inside. They breathed a sigh of relief when Octavia shut the door behind her and sealed it, now in relative safety, with a strong door between them and their opponents outside. The cockpit was small, cramped with three people inside but they would have to make do.

Lincoln sat down on the pilot’s chair, “Do you know how to fly?” Octavia questioned nervously as she scanned the hangar bay through the window.

“I haven’t done it in a long time, but I used to be quite good,” Lincoln replied, flipping switches and checking gauges.

They were quiet as Lincoln went on with setting the ship up for flying.

“Lincoln,” Octavia said suddenly, her voice apprehensive. “I think we gotta speed it up, because there are more stormtroopers coming. And some are moving to other TIE-fighters.”

“Fuck,” Lincoln cursed, he flipped two more switches and then grabbed the controls for steering the ship.

He pulled both controls toward him, and the fighter took off, if it was with a few shudders neither Clarke nor Octavia said anything about it. As they faced the massive doors connecting the hangar bay to space, dread settled in Clarke’s stomach when it became apparent that he doors were still closed, and not opening. Without the doors open they had no way of leaving.

“Lincoln, the doors,” Clarke urged, hoping he could miraculously get them to open.

“Octavia, flip the switch to your right there,” Lincoln told her, loosely pointing to the wall that was lined with multiple of them.

Octavia flipped one the switches, but instead of the doors opening, an alarm went off and lights started blinking. Undoing it quickly, the alarm stopped. Octavia felt sweat pooling on her forehead as she frantically started switching others but had similar results every time.

Finally, she switched the right one, and instead of inside, an ear-deafening alarm went off in the hangar bay. Clarke turned her attention to the massive doors and to her relief they were opening.

Lincoln hovered their ship in front of them so they could fly out as soon as the gap was wide enough.

When they doors were open wide enough for them to get through, Lincoln said, “Hold on tight, I might be a bit rusty,” and he pushed the joysticks all the way forward. And they took off into space. Surrounded by the calming stars, they could take a breath to let the events settle.

It wasn’t long, however, when Lincoln’s voice sounded again. “We got company,”

Lasers were shooting passed them, shot by other TIE’s that followed them out of the spaceship, four of them to be exact.

“This ride might still get a little bumpy,” he said as a flipped a switch to his right and a screen popped up with a cross on it.

He maneuvered the ship in position, flying in front of the TIE’s that were unrelentingly shooting lasers at them. As they gave chase, they got closer and closer until Lincoln suddenly veered off to the right. The unexpected move caught two of the pilots off guard, and they collided together in a big explosion.

Two down, two more to go.

Lincoln wore a grin on his face, barely hiding his pride for that move. But then he sobered again. “Clarke,” he said, catching her attention from where she had been watching the other TIE-fighters closely. “you see this cross right here? Push this button when one of the TIE’s are in line with the cross,” he explained, gesturing to the screen and a joystick to his right.

Clarke nodded even though Lincoln couldn’t see her, too engrossed in avoiding the lasers their pursuers were still shooting at them.

Clarke didn’t know how he did it, but somehow Lincoln managed to swerve around. They were facing the other ships. “Now!” Lincoln urged as Clarke aimed for one of them with the joystick. She pushed the pushed and held her breath as a laser shot from their ship towards one of the others. She released a breath when the laser hit its target, the boom unheard in space but Clarke imagined it would have been loud.

“Nice shot,” Octavia applauded her and Clarke would be lying if she wasn’t a bit proud of herself.

Three down, one more to go.

Lincoln changed their course again; their pursuer had changed direction and they couldn’t see him anymore. They searched frantically out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the last TIE-fighter.

While they were looking, they had not been paying attention what was happening in front of them. Octavia was the first to notice the remaining ship coming toward them head-on, “Watch out!” she warned to no one in particular, but she hoped at least one of her companions would react.

Lincoln grabbed the controls again, but Clarke was quicker this time. She aimed the laser for straight at the ship and pushed the button as soon laser locked on its target. A second later and the last remaining ship fell apart in pieces.

All three of them let out a breath to release the tension that had their bodies strung taut. Clarke calmed down her heartbeat when she noticed it had been beating rapidly.

“What now?” Clarke asked, looking at Octavia then at Lincoln.

“Now we go back to our base, and to our friends. And Lincoln is coming with us,” Octavia revealed, catching Clarke’s eyes as if to ask her to challenge Octavia’s words. 

But Clarke didn’t, instead she smiled. It would be a long flight in an uncomfortably small spaceship, but at least they were out of the clutches of the Alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please leave kudos and comments, I love to read them and they give me motivation to write faster and better :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos if you enjoyed and comment your thoughts, ideas, suggestions <3


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